[HP]Aluet

I was walking on an endless white road, surrounded by smoke, and I felt like I was in the middle of the clouds.

I couldn't find the source of those voices, so I could only walk forward step by step until something like a tall mirror stood in front of me.

I looked up and couldn't see where the highest point of this mirror led.

I stretched out my finger and poked the surface of the mirror, and it rippled like a surging stream of water.

"You can choose to stay and be with us." An ethereal voice began to echo in my ears again, "Or choose another world, a brand new start."

"you……"

"We are in another dimension, different from yours."

"They said there is no God." I thought for a while, and finally expressed my doubts.

"Indeed, there is no God ... at least it is not what the god thinks." The voice seemed to whisper in my ear. "Come here is a new order ... We have joy, anger, and sorrow No. We make the rules, follow the rules, and maintain the rules.”

I took a deep breath and lowered my arms.

"I want to wait a little longer."

"Wait for what?"

I pursed my lips in a complicated mood, I didn't know how to answer this question.

"Only a whole soul can reach here."

The voice disappeared completely after the last sentence, and the whole space was horribly dead silent. The surface of the mirror in front of me suddenly began to fluctuate violently, and I subconsciously took two steps back.

Trembling, I raised my hand and covered the undulating mirror again.

My soul shuddered, and I felt a strong familiarity—I could feel him, Tom Riddle's soul, and I could feel the faint connection that still existed between us.

Yet I have seen his life in the churning fog.

I watched his soul dissipate in the sky and the earth with my own eyes, and the only fragile string broke completely in my heart.

I still made my choice to face a new life.

"She didn't choose to stay and enter another order system. She stepped into that mirror to find another world that could accommodate her soul."

"ended?"

"Yes, the story ends here." I touched Penny's soft brown hair, "However, it's also a new beginning, and the rest should be left to our own imagination."

"I like this story." She covered the quilt and lay down, closed her eyes, and her trembling eyelashes shone with golden light under the light, "This is much more interesting than those stories told by Grandma Morgan. She only gave We tell stories about foxes, and foxes do bad things every day, but not all foxes do bad things, do they?" She whispered and said quickly, "I'm already 15 years old. When I make enough money , I can buy all the novels I want. So, don’t tell this story to anyone else, okay?”

"Good. Good night, Penny."

I put on my hat and went downstairs softly.

"Leaving?" Mrs. Morgan just came back from outside, carrying several large baskets full of vegetables in her hand.

I smiled at her, and took out some bread and fruit I bought earlier from my bag and put them on the table.

"You bring so many things for the children every time you come." She put down the basket and asked, "I think you like Penny's child very much. It's been several months. You have no plans yet?"

"I don't know." I hesitated, "Let's talk about it later."

I had thought about adopting Penny back from the orphanage.

She is a very active little girl, I think with her here, my boring and lonely life might be a little fun, but I don't know if my current state can give her a relatively good growth environment.

For twenty or thirty years, my life was as dull as a normal person's, and I had no interest in anything except the story I told Penny.

In fact, up to now, I can't remember those names, I can't remember the faces of those people, those stories have become very strange to me-I am indeed forgetting them a little bit, because this memory should not be Belongs to me now.

But I still stubbornly want to remember them desperately, and I force myself to recall the blurred things every day, so more than four months ago, I followed Penny’s willingness to listen to the story with some random words. I told her little by little the names I imagined, as if it was strengthening my memory.

But why should I do this?

I can still feel him.

I'm probably crazy.I think.

I clearly watched his soul dissipate from the world, no matter which world he was in, he no longer existed.

"Life is like a closed circle, from the beginning to the end, and then to a new starting point, this is eternity. What is lost will always come back in another way."

Probably the inadvertent words of the young man I met in the library last year aggravated my obsession.Annoyed, I pinned the hair that blocked my eyes behind my ears.

"Nice to meet you."

His dark gray eyes looked away from the page, he closed the book, held out his hand to me, and smiled politely.

I passed the library unconsciously, it was getting late and the library was closed.I wanted to put those memories to the back of my mind, but my brain still kept popping up from time to time the straight back of the black hair, so I started to think about the reason why the man took the initiative to talk to me.

He should be a little interested in the book in my hand, so he talked with me a few words along the content... He has a very bookish air, I guess he may be a student who has just graduated, or he may be a Teacher, but I can't guarantee whether there will be a big deviation in my guess.

But later on, I seldom saw him, and I didn't bother each other occasionally. In my eyes, he was just a passer-by who had a little intersection in life.

The evening wind was blowing my hair, and after feeling a comfortable coolness, I suddenly lost the thought of going home immediately.I walked slowly on the street, walked onto the bridge, and finally stopped, lying on the guardrail and looking down at the sea reflecting the silvery white moonlight.

It is not a normal thing to look at the sea at night.

But under the cold moonlight, I quietly felt the salty taste in the air, and began to recall that long story again.

I suddenly felt a little tired and lost.

Maybe in a few years, I will really forget them completely, maybe I should let myself forget them, instead of torturing myself like this day after day.Sometimes I really suspect that it's just a long, long dream... But I don't know what kind of psychology I have.Probably that strange feeling still hasn't disappeared...

When I really forget, only Penny will remember this "interesting" story.

I turned my head, and in the night, I saw a vague black figure standing by the bridge in the distance. I approached slowly in that direction carefully, and when the distance was long enough, I could see the face of that person clearly, and he also noticed me. approaching, so he turned his head to look at me, a hint of surprise flashed in his eyes.

I raised my hand somewhat at a loss, and said hello symbolically.I'm not sure if he remembers me, but now I seem too embarrassed to just walk past it.

I can only keep a distance of one person from him, and continue to look at the end of the horizon.

"Do you like that too?"

"What?" I looked at him in surprise, he squinted his eyes, still staring straight ahead, rubbing his lips thoughtfully with his fingers.

"I come here often." He said lightly, "From sunset in the evening until the moonlight shines on the sea." He stated self-containedly, "So after a long time, I found that in the cycle of repetition, Nature is such an interesting thing. I used to think about whether there is a hand pushing these rules, maybe it is possible that the person pushing everything is me." He looked at me, and I saw it from the depths of his pupils. There was a hint of a smile, and I was stunned for a few seconds by his words until he actually laughed.

"Just kidding," he said.

"Then I suddenly realized that there were other things that I had overlooked that deserved my attention. I made myself think about these, and decided to wait for you here."

That weird sense of connection burst out more and more intensely, almost waking up those strange memories.

"You..." I raised my hand involuntarily, and looked at the familiar face that seemed to have existed in the depths of my memory in disbelief. I really wanted to confirm whether this was my hallucination, or whether I was out of it. What question would create such a strange feeling for a man whom he had only met twice.

But his hand landed on the side of my face first, caressed the base of my ear, and slid towards the light red mark on my neck.

His voice was as soft as a feather tickling my ears.

"Got you."

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The author has something to say:

a false but believable he

In the postscript, I said that I thought that the moment when Tom’s soul completely dissipated in 1998 was also a return to integrity in another sense, so I took this article as a beautiful fantasy.

◎Ambition is deep in his bones, but he realized what is more important, so if it is used in the right place, then ambition will not be a derogatory term

◎That is to say, it is directly a non-magic world, and the danger is strangled from the source

◎After I finished speaking, some people said that he was very bookish and probably wanted to study nuclear weapons. What do you think? (狗头)

Finally, Happy Chinese Valentine's Day!